


Pointed Ocurrances

by ironicconcoctions



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angels, Asshole!Mikey, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Other, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Temporary Character Death, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:39:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironicconcoctions/pseuds/ironicconcoctions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Iero has a slight dilemma...A new teacher at his school had odd tendencies, likes dark corners, and even weirder enough, smells like absolute death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Better Than

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed because I am a beta as well as a writer. (One of my more risky works/ originally posted on MCRfanfiction.com so yeah)  
> Contains cute as fuck vampies and surprises!!!  
> Enjoy :)

Frank Iero had strode into the hallway of Bellville High on the first day of school like he owned the place, confident that this year would be his best, and thank Satan his last. The corridors still smelled like the pink wood shavings they used to clean up the Freshman’s puke from Cardio II, and the tiles still shoe scuffed, because obviously, a whole 96 days of Summer isn't enough time to actually clean the fucking place and Christ it really, really, wreaked in here.

“Bob, my main man! How’s it going?” Frank smiled deviously, as he fist bumped the taller blond boy leaning against the rusty locker. Bob just scrunched up his nose in disgust, and waved his hand a little bit.

“Eh, could be worse, Ray’s been blabbing about the one new teacher though.” Frank raised his eyebrows, as in like What the actual fuck, Ray? “Apparently every girl in the school, and uh, Christa too, are drooling over him.”

Frank chuckled into his hand. “Leave it to the Fro to start obsessing over a new teacher, a guy teacher. No wonder Christa has been ignoring him.” he just rolled his eyes, and Bob opened his locker to pull out a Gatorade. He opened his mouth to say something, but the bell rang. ‘See ya,’ they called after one another, and Frank headed down the west corridor for Algebra III because apparently, two hours a day, of Algebra II in Junior Year wasn't enough.

“Fuck Block Schedule, this sucks massive dick.” he muttered under his breath, quietly, or not because, well-

“And so do you!” Some massive asshole shoved Frank into the orange wall, his buddies laughing and smacking him on the back. “Nice one, Rich.” One guy congratulates, and Frank just glared from his current position as a new decorative piece on the wall. He peeled himself off, and trudges this time, to Room 603, not making a sound, afraid that shit would happen again.

Sigh.

Once inside the room, he took a seat in the same spot as last year, except it's not Neal, the dude who drooled all over his green book instead of participating in class, but a scrawny blonde kid who occupies the desk next to his. “Hey,” Frank half waves, and half makes disapproving awkward noises with his throat, but the kid just ignores him and plays with his square glasses. “Weirdo.” Frank breathes, pulling out a #2 pencil from his book bag.

“I know.”

Frank turns towards the small kid, not really expecting to actually hear coherent, and may I add, actual words coming from the really thin mouth. “I didn't think you were listening.”

“I’m always listening.” The kid narrows his dark eyes, “Mikey, and just so you know.” Mikey turns to face the front of the room, completely not acknowledging Frank’s bewildered face, because, have you noticed? Someone just fucking talked back, to Frank Iero, school punk. Everybody knows unless you sit on the school throne, you will, and I repeat, will never make a snarky ass comment to Iero, or spend the rest of the week with a permanent fist indent in your face.

“Excuse me? Did you just-” Frank started to say, but the teacher had began to announce that class has begun, and no talking is permitted.

~

Frank tries to catch Mikey at the end of 1st period, but his small frame easily slips through the compressed bodies, and nobody really wants to be near the new freak, let alone touch him. He looks for him in Literature, and then it’s lunch, but the snarky ass kid had seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth.

Franks moving things around in his locker when he spots a familiar moving blob of fluffy brown hair skipping towards him. “Hey Toro, nice day?” he says, as he slams the cold metal, and leans back into it’s riveted surface.

“Ha, funny joke.” Ray waves his hands excitedly, expressing his clear happiness. “Are you brown bagging it, today?”

Frank replies by holding up the paper sack, it swings a little, and then puts his arm back at his side. “Don’t want that nasty school shit in my system. Do you know how they treat animals these days, because-”

Ray cuts him off, placing his arm in front of Frank to stop him, “Yeah, yeah, yeah! Okay we get it. You like to eat rabbit food, and me and the rest of the world will munch on the fuel of a real man. Meat.” They hear a huff from behind them, but don’t bother to turn around, because it’s clearly Bob, who only makes noises like that when he’s attempting to show any void of emotion. When they see the shiny glass of the courtyard door, Frank runs up to it first, opening it, and manages to slam it in Ray’s face, giggling.

“Fuck yeah!” He growls at nothing, earning looks by some of the groups who are already perched at the mossy tables, and under trees. Frank glares at them, and they all tear their eyes away, back to the food next to them.

Frank feels a familiar grip on his shoulder, Ray, he thinks. “How sweet Frank. I love getting my nose broken by a glass door.” he smirks, and Ray just shakes his head before plopping down in the green grass under the school’s only willow tree. “So how was class, sweetheart?” Ray asked, batting his eyelashes while pulling a PB&J from his messenger bag.

“Some...asshole. Mikey? He’s new, anyways he fucking talked back to me. Big mistake.” Frank growls in the general direction of his math room. Bob actually seemed to perk up at the mention of Mikey’s name.

“Mikey? Like anorexic, skinny, scene kid Mikey? Mikey Way?”

Frank leans away from the suddenly happy Bob, “Uh, yeah?”

The bulky boy just smiles down at his lap and starts to open his Tupperware, causing Frank and Ray to exchange weird looks. Whatever, days been weird enough- Frank thinks to himself, contemplating the possibilities of why Bob, of all people, would be happy about a new junior. He pokes at his avocado and tomato bagel, before looking up. “Hey, what classes you guys got after lunch?”

Ray crinkles his nose up, his hair starting to stand up a little, and Frank and Bob share a knowing look. “Biology.” says Ray, exhaling loudly.

“I have, uh, Dramatic Arts, I think.” Frank murmurs while he feels around in the grass for his lighter, until smelling a fresh cancer stick being lit, “Bob you little-”

“Hey, midget. You said if I didn't tell Ray you were the one who keyed his car at the Smashing Pumpkins concert, I get free smokes.”

Ray’s eyes get huge, “You did what? That was you! I thought it was...just never mind. Anyways, Dramatic Arts?”

“Mhmm.”

“That’s the new teachers class! Holy shit guys, hes freaking weird. He looks like that one guy off Sweeney Todd, except his hair was is way more awesome, and he dresses like total old style!” Ray starts to ramble on about the guy, and Frank just thinks Typical. Because it was.

Everyone around them starts to pick up their trash, so they take the cue and Frank somehow ends up picking up none, but grabbing his smokes back and running as fast as he can before Ray remembers about the keying incident, and reaches the Dramatic Arts class in, like, 3 minutes flat. Which is pretty fucking awesome, considering it’s all the way down in the Mason League Department.

Frank reaches the door, and heaves a little bit because fucking smoker lungs, Christ. His knuckles curl around the door and he steps in, ignoring the snarl from the douche-bags in the back because, apparently, Greg’s girl has the total hots for Frank Iero! And like totally might leave Greg for the school punk! Like motherfucking totally- Frank mimics in his mind, like the girls from Literature.

The new teacher is bent over rummaging through his wooden desk, random papers flying up in the air, so Frank makes sure to snag a seat by the window before he can put him in a place he'd rather not be. The bell rung, and Frank just slumped further into his seat, playing with his black fringe, not paying attention to the rest of the class filing in, girls around him who are fanning themselves. He starts to remove his jacket, hanging it over the seats back when he hears someone clear their throat.

“Alright class,” a smooth melodic voice rings off the walls, and makes Frank suddenly jerk his head up towards the angelic noise erupting out from his new teacher, guy teacher’s, mouth.

His brown, no black hair, is messily tousled, resting just above his shoulders and curling around his ears. His skin was like fucking marble, white and smooth and flawless. Twinkling impossibly gold eyes- if that was even possible, lit up his face, complementing his small pixie nose, and thin (but oddly full) pink lips. It didn't seem human to look that good.

The fucker was just utterly gorgeous.

“We are going to start with just simple sketching. This is called Dramatic Arts, but I don’t see what’s so dramatic about pastels, and pencils,” the man rolled his eyes, his gaze resting onto Frank’s gaping face, “But we’ll leave that to the school board.” he finishes turning towards the front of the room.

Frank’s cheeks are red, and like, cherry red. He can feel the stare of all the girls, and small whispers because - the hot new teacher was like, totally checking Iero out! but Frank knows that’s not it. This guy is way, way too hot to be queer.

“Oh, the names Mr.Way.” the dude says, spinning on his black heels, his eyes raking over Frank, again, making him shiver. Frank pulled his jacket back on,staring at Mr.Way the whole class period, ignoring the small snickers and insults whirling around him. The teacher seemed to be having the same idea, because he would frequently look back and smirk, his eyes flickering (or was it just Frank’s imagination?) hazel-ish.

It was the last class of Frank’s day, and he was fucking terrified. One, because he didn't want to go home to his parents, and two. He felt utterly, and completely drawn to Mr.Way. Like not just curiously, but like, physically. Frank was pretty sure he was straight.

Was, as in past tense.

Frank didn't even notice the bell ringing, and stayed in his seat contemplating what was going through his head. Was he gay? Or bisexual? Pansexual? He wasn't sure. He loved boobs. He really liked boobs. He also liked the way girls were smooth and curvy and smelled nice, and just girls. But this guy-

“Frank.”

Frank looked up, and Mr.Way was staring down at him, a hand placed on his hip. His jeans, holy shit, his jeans were really tight. And Frank noticed how the sun peeking through the blinds shone just over one eye, and Frank could clearly see the gold flicker to Hazel, then back to gold again, like a strobe light or something.

“Frank class is over.”

“Oh yeah...” Frank stuttered, struggling to get out of his seat, reaching behind it to grab his bag off the ground, which wasn't...it was gone. He looked around furiously before noticing his teacher leaning against the desk, a plain black book bag hanging off his fingers.

“Looking for this?” Mr. Way smirked, but didn't hold the book bag out towards Frank.

Frank nodded, and walked over to grab it. His finger’s brushed Mr.Way’s and his whole body went ice cold, a long hard shiver racking his body, down the length of his spine to the bottom of his converse clad toes. It’s not that it felt like a bad cold, but just shockingly so. He looked into his teacher’s eyes, but if he had felt it, he was hiding it well.

“Goodbye, Frank.”

“Uh,bye.” Frank walked slowly to the door, and was almost out into the hallway when he heard somebody clear their throat behind him.

"Frank, could you do something for me?"

"Mr.Way?"

The alabaster man beckoned Frank over to him, and lay his hand on Frank's shoulders, tilting his  
student’s head to the side. "I'd like you to close your eyes for a few moments, yeah?" Mr. Way lent forward, his chilly breathe hitting Frank’s neck. Brushing his pale lips against the thin skin on Frank's smooth throat, he could smell the fear seeping through every pore on the kid's small body. But he didn't care.

He had come to feed.

He deliberately ran his teeth over the ashen complexion of Frank, and then sunk his teeth in, kneading the skin until the blood started to flow into his mouth, lapping at it with his tongue. This was probably, no, the best tasting plasma he had ever dined on. He felt a pair of hands latch onto the side of his face, but they weren't pushing him away, but beckoning him closer to the boy underneath him. Frank was literally clawing at him, pushing their chests hard against one another, but Mr.Way pulled away.

He didn't want to kill Frank.

Frank just stared at his teacher, who was licking his lips. His hair was tousled, and looked like sex, and his green eyes were blown wide. “Oh my god.” he whispered, and Mr.Way looked up.

“Frank,” his teacher stepped closer, expecting the boy to run away, “You should go now. This never happened.”

“Wait, so, you're not gonna ever do that again?”

Mr.Way was astonished. Had Frank actually enjoyed that? Because human’s usually just ran away and tried to forget, forget the pain of the fucking sensation of fangs in their jugular, and usually did, because the venom had erased their memory of the past day.

“Because that felt, like...awesome.”

“Wait,” Mr.Way held his hand up, “You enjoyed that?”

Frank swallowed, and brushed his fingers over the faint teeth marks on his neck. “Yeah. I...Whoa.” he smirked, looking down at his feet. “Better than sex.” he murmured into his shoulder, giggling.

“Than sex?” his teacher squeaked, turning around towards his desk and gripping the edge. Oh fucking shit, he thought. Fucking shit bitch damn, shit damn, fuck, whore, shit damn.

“Frank,” he turned back towards the young kid.

“Yeah?”

“Frank, I think you’re my mate.”


	2. Sickest Kids

“Frank, I think you’re my mate.”

Frank kind of coughed out a string of curse words, and then rubbed his forehead. A mate? To a vampire- or whatever the fuck Mr.Way was. He couldn't be.

“Um, I think you've got the wrong guy.” Frank said, looking back up at his teacher, Mr.Way. Gerard.

Wait stop there. Gerard? Frank thought, where did that come from. He didn't know, and was never told, what his teacher’s name was. Unless someone had mentioned it to him while he wasn't paying attention... Probably! Yeah, that’s most likely what had happened. Somebody had known, and was talking about Mr.Way, when his real name popped up in the conversation, sticking to Frank’s conscious. Mhmm, yeah. Totally.

He didn’t even look like a Gerard. He looked like a...Gerard. Fucking shit.

Mr.Way laughed nervously, gazing around the room. The light reflected off his pointy fangs, “Yeah...I am probably wrong. Heh, uh sorry. For just um biting you.” he went poker faced after that. “Won’t...um...you should go?”

“You want me to just go?” Frank hissed, grabbing at his teacher’s vest, “Just walk away from something like that? Dude, I just met you, and you bite me, and like, it the coolest most scary awesome thing that’s ever happened to me!” Mr.Way’s eyes flitted around the cold room nervously, before landing back on Frank’s. They flitted from a hazy gold, to an amber hazel again.

 

“Wha- what? No.” The teacher pushed Frank away, hard, his back hitting the hard desk that he had been perched on. “You think this is a joke?” Frank cringed away from the other man’s face in front of his. “Well, it isn't. I bit you, fed off you, and then...” he backed away, turning towards the rest of the room, taking in the colorful appearance, “And then maybe I made a critical suggestion, which was incorrect for your own curiosity.”

Frank spat at the floor, his saliva bright on the pink tile. “Me thinking this is a joke?” he cried, hoisting himself atop the desk, his legs spread awkwardly until he was on his feet. Papers were flying to the floor, a few pens crushed under his weight, the black ink mingling with the blue. “Well, you sir are absolutely fucking wrong!”

And then Bob walked in.

He came inside the doorway, and at first didn’t notice that Frank was ontop of Mr.Way’s desk, the materials demolished on the floor, his face twisted up into a sick grin, mouth open to spit the rest of his rant. Mr.Way in a pose that looked like he was about to lunge up on the desk and strangle his student, hands clenched tight next to his sides, and sharp fangs protruded. A little bit of dried blood was also on the side of his mouth.

Bob jumped, “Oh dude, I’ve been looking for you man! Where have you-” he raised his eyebrow at the scene, stepping a few paces back, “Did...what the fuck happened?”

Frank just turned towards his friend, ink squeaking under his converse. “Oh, uh Mr.Way-” he started, and then pursed his lips, unaware his friend was talking about the huge fucking bite mark! bleeding! down the side! of his neck! Not why he was on the desk, screaming bloody murder at his teacher. “He was...”

Bob raised his hands in the air, defensively, “No dude its, whatever.” he said hesitantly, face scrunching up a bit. Which was weird, because Bob never had facial expressions, unless, you like, count pissed off and angry. “I just gotta get you home before you know...”

Mr.Way was staring at the boy, the tall blond boy, he couldn’t...he couldn’t smell his blood. Something was definitely off about this kid. But, he’d brush it off for now. Maybe ask Mikey about the him, later. Frank yelped, jumping off the desk suddenly, grabbing his black bag off the ground.

“Bye, Mr.Way.” he hissed through clenched teeth, turning towards his friend who was now completely out of the room, standing in the hallway with a horrified look on his face.

Mr.Way just watched, and then cried out “Wait, Frank!” the kid spun back around, cracking a smirk, “I’m sorry I couldn't help you with your problem, Mr.Iero.” Gerard said lightly, touching the boy’s shoulder.

Frank just nodded stiffly, thinking What problem?

Gerard watched the two boys leave, he could still hear blondie’s erratic breathing, and smell the lingering scent of fear and contentment of Frank. He just hoped the touch on the shoulder had worked, if it had, by midnight, Frank wouldn’t remember a single thing. But Gerard wasn’t sure, because the kid had, like, enjoyed being bitten. Weird.

~

“OhmygodFrankwhatwasthatabout- what the fuck happened back there?” Bob cried when they got to his old volvo, he looked terrified, he had sweat dripping off his forehead, and was kind of, um, shaking. Was that weird? Should they call a hospital, because this was-

 

“FRANKLIN ANTHONY IERO.” Bob screamed into the smaller boy’s face, making Frankie jump back and clutch the strap of his bag harder. Ray was leaning out of the car now, giving Bob a ‘holy fucking shit, holy fucking shit, hell’ look.

“Yeah?” Frank squeaked, closing his eyes because he didn’t like to see Bob like this.

Bob latched his big hands onto Frank’s jacket, “What happened in there? Did he do something to you? And what’s with that huge gash on your neck,” he tried to tilt Frank’s neck to the side, but the kid just leaned away shaking his head.

“Just practicing, for Dramatic Arts?” it came out more a question than a statement, but he had answered clearly, “And um, the gash is makeup...yeah?” Frank tried to smile, and Bob just stared at him before nodding slowly, and backing up towards the car.

He grabbed the door, getting in, his butt sliding on the dirty felt like seats. “Frank, you gotta sit upfront, cuz Mikey is riding with us.” Bob coughed, looking down at the steering wheel before buckling in. Frank didn’t say anything, but got inside the car. He noticed Mikey studying him from the backseat, and then Ray started to babble about the band Queen, and all that shit, and before you know it, they are in front of Frank’s house.

~

“Be careful, Franklin.” Bob said lightly from the front seat, after Frank got out of the car. His hand rested on the steering wheel, and he was relaxed back into the volvo’s nasty ass seats.

Frank laughed, and shuffled around on the sidewalk. “Will do, Bryar. See you later Ray!” he scratched at his neck before adding awkwardly, “You too, Mikey?”

Mikey nodded solemnly, but them opened his mouth. “Actually, I’ll just get off here. My house isn’t too far away.” he got out of the car, and walked around it. Before you know it, him and Frank were staring out of the side of their hair at each other, while Bob and Ray went off to do whatever.

“Uh,” Mikey said awkwardly,

Frank coughed, peering at the park across the street, “Wanna come inside?” he mustered, but saw Mikey’s face. “I mean like only- Only if you wanna!”

“Sure?”

Mikey followed Frank inside the house. Frank shushed him, putting a finger to his own lips. They crept past a sleeping form which Mikey decided was Frank’s mom, on the couch. He followed the small guy into a darkly lit hallway, until they were in front of a grey door. Frank pulled it open, and waved Mikey in, who banged his elbow fucking hard and loud on the trim.

“Dude!” Frank hissed, narrowing his eyes, and Mikey just cringed.  
Once the door was closed, Mikey got a look at Frank’s room. It was plain white with nothing on the walls, he had a bookshelf, but it only contained a bible, and a few books by Stephen King. The rest of the shelves had piles among piles of CD’s. Misfits, Pixies, Iron Maiden, Black Flag, Gorilla Biscuit, Casket Lottery, and even, like, Danzig. Mikey knew he was gonna fucking like this kid. The rest of the room had a wooden desk with nothing on it, except a broken laptop, and a bed with red sheets on the floor.

Oh, and a guitar case with a bunch of stickers on it.

“Sorry,” Frank whispered, plopping onto his bed. “It’s just my mom isn’t doing so well, and stuff. She just, she get’s really upset sometimes. I didn’t wanna wake her up.”

Mikey smiles, and notices Frank itching something on the side of his neck, scratching hard at the skin and hissing when his finger’s make contact. “Hey, what happened?” he reaches to pull the shirt farther down a bit, but Frank pulls away, making his eyes go huge.

“Don’t do that.”

“I’m just trying to see what it is-” Mikey reaches for the shirt, and pulls the sleeve down a bit, revealing twin fang marks. “Where the hell did you get these?” he growls, brown eyes going dark. He knows what those are, and the person didn’t even have the decency to seal them? The fuck were they thinking, letting a human run around marked like that! The venom wouldn’t work now, and Frank was still gonna remember what happened in the morning.

Frank shivered, gulping, his adam’s apple bobbing under his pale skin. “I got bit, uh.” he sniffs, and looks anywhere but Mikey, “By a dog.”

“A dog?”

“Yeah?”

Mikey sighs, leaning closer, “I’m not stupid. Who fucking bit you, it had to be recent.” he ran his thumb against the marks, they weren’t too bad. They actually looked to be healing by themselves, so maybe it was a dog? Not quite inflamed, but maybe more like, irritated because they weren't supposed to be there.

Nope, it was definitely a vampire bite.

“A dog, I swear!” Frank said, throwing his hands up. “That blind kid’s dog, um, Jimmy? So, well his dog bit me ‘cuz I touched it.” Mikey just nodded, and then got up to grab his bag.

“I gotta go home dude, sorry.” he said going for the door, and Frank only nodded, running his fingers over the bitemark again.  
~

“What’s for dinner?” Mikey said, as he slammed the front door of his house, walking to the old table and sitting in one of the chairs. Gerard looked up from the couch, and walked inside their kitchen.

“How’s O Negative, since it’s your first day of high school ” Gerard said, pulling out a glass pitcher of crimson blood from the fridge, and Mikey gave one of his rare grins.

The older of the two set out two goblets, filling them just below the brim with the blood, and set them on the table, joining his little brother. “Thanks!” Mikey said after taking a big sip, a small sliver of blood slipping past his lips and falling down his chin.

Gerard just sipped his casually, licking at his fangs every now and then, as his brother gulped his while flipping through one of his favorite comic books. “If mom could see you now, actually able to drink from the cup instead of my neck.You matured really fast, Mikeyway.”

“It would have been weird to be drinking from my own brother’s neck, dude. I’m 15, I don’t need to freaking use you as my personal succubus.”

Gerard cackled, and then took a big swig of the remaining blood in his cup, draining it all.


	3. Bite Me

“Frank, get your lazy ass up, and go to school you little fucker!”

Frank was used to it by now, his mom yelling up from the end of the hallway every morning. He dragged himself off the bed, and threw on something, clothes he hoped. Trudging out of his room, he saw that his mother’s door was closed, and heard a faint click of the lock. A huge smile spread across his sleepy face, and soon enough he was out at the curb waiting for Bob.

“Hello.”

Frank jumped, because like, fucking Mikey Way was standing next to his mailbox, and literally scared the shit out of him. “Uh, hi?” he mumbled around his blueberry poptart, frostingless of course. Mikey just nodded, and continued to play with the strings on his black hoodie. “It’s like, fucking, 90 degrees dude.”

The skinny kid turned towards Frank and looked at him seriously through a pair of dark glasses. “I noticed.” he said in a monotone voice, and then turned back towards the road. Bob pulled up about right then, Ray’s face lolling on the right side of the backseat, sleeping like the dead.

“Get in asshole.” Bob croaked, and then saw Mikey. “Hop on in, MIkeyway.” he said smirking, his cheeks tinged a bit red. Frank raised an eyebrow, but got in the front seat of the Volvo. Bob started the car and they were off to school.

~

It was BDay. Fucking BDay and Frank was already hyperventilating in the boys bathroom, quaking inside one of the nasty stalls. “Oh shit, Oh shit.” he muttered repeatedly under his breathe because, because they somehow double blocked his classes, somehow, Frank ended up taking Dramatic Arts and Theatre in one semester. Both with Mr.Way. Both with this guy, vampire, demon thing he kind of had some weird ass bite fetish crush on, who was also a guy. A man. Not like, some pre-pubetic teenage boy, but a full grown man. Who had really nice musculars arms, and after-sex hair all the time, and a hot jaw.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

And the worst of all was, he was itching to see him. Frank wasn’t anticipating seeing him, No, he was itching, like under the skin itch. An itch that means “I want to push you up against a fucking wall, and drag my hands down your skin, mark the fuck out of you. Bruise you, show you’re mine. Mine.” That kind of itch. And he had class with him in exactly Four hours and Thirty-Two minutes. His last class, again, and he was thinking of every way possible to avoid him.

Frank whimpered, bringing his hand up to his neck. The bite had been throbbing for at least three hours, making shivers run up and down his back, like some kind of vibrating fever that felt really exhilarating and also fucking deadly. He sucked in a breath, and heard the bathroom door open.

“Frank? Frank, you in here dude?” some kid from his Biology class, who Mrs.Trick must have sent. “You’ve been in here for like, twenty minutes.”

Frank crawled off the toilet, and opened the door. “Coming.” he sighed, his feet making squeaky scraping noises on the nasty tile. “I said I’m coming!” the kid gets the idea, and dashed out like a madman. Frank looks at himself in the mirror, and his breath hitches. He looks really young, definitely not two months away from being an adult. He still had some baby chub on his face, and a tiny nose. Really tiny. And his light brown hair had blonde bleached on the top and sides, blending all weird and unnatural. He wasn’t ugly- not at all. He was just washed out.

“Gotta go to fucking Biology.” he mutters, and walks out of the bathroom, wooden door swinging on it’s hinges. The hallway is empty, and he notices all the weird diagrams his teachers hang up. Who wants to stare at the genetalia of a sloth? Not Frank.

His teacher smiles when he gets to the room, all sickly sweet and disgusting. “Why, Franklin, How nice of you to show up!” Mrs.Trick points to his Lab desk near the back where his kind of friend Lola is sitting.

“Hi,” she whispers when Frank sits down in his seat, and he just nods solemnly at her, as she tucks a piece of purple hair behind her ear. “What’s wrong?”

Frank sighs, and starts to say “Everything,” when Mrs.Trick sends him a glare from hell, and then resumes talking about, like, some Darwin guy. “I'll tell you later, ‘k?” Lola nods, and starts to jot down some stuff in her curly writing she has. Frank starts to fall asleep, seeing this is he least favorite fucking class, and yes it’s only day two, but he just knows.

“Frank!”

Lola’s shaking his arm furiously, and he looks up. Mrs.Trick is giving him the fucking evil eye, so he just huffs. “Yeah?”

“I asked you a question.”

“Well, I apparently didn’t hear it.”

The whole class just kind of got really quiet, and Mrs.Trick just stared. “Well, then. I guess you’ll just have to pay better attention.” the lady stuttered out, she almost looked scared. Lola was staring at Frank with her mouth open a little, and so were the other kids. He shot them a glare and they all went back to taking boring notes.

“What was that?” Lola hissed, not looking Frank in the eyes.

“What was what?”

She shuddered, and looked harder at her inky pen moving over the notepad. “How you said it. It was like, you just...” Lola looked like she was trying to find the right words for it. “Frank, you growled at the teacher.” Frank blinked a bit, trying to deny that, but then the bell rang, and it was time for lunch.

~

“Dude.” Ray said, as he sat down on his jacket next to Frank in the courtyard, “You told off a teacher? Rad man.”

Frank poked at his carrot sticks. “Not rad, man. Lola said I like, hissed at her. Like what the hell?” he popped one of the orange sticks into his mouth, teeth crunching on it. It tasted dry, but food was food. Ray poked Frank’s arm, and he looked up, seeing a once again, cloaked Mikey Way, and big buff burly Bob towering over him.

“Hey, guys.” he said, kneeling onto the shaded grass, bottle of gatorade, blue as usual, falling with a hard thud. “Tough day?” Mikey stared at the grass before carefully lowering himself onto it, making sure his hood didn't drift down, and pulled a dark green bottle out of his hoodie pocket, undoing the lid carefully.

Ray chuckled, eyes drifting over Mikey before cracking a smile. “Nah. Same old.” he took a huge bite out of his rueben sandwich right then, and Frank wanted to barf. Meat, gross.

“How did you get into Mason League, Mikey?” Bob asks, eye twinkling as he pops a chip into his mouth.

Mikey’s mouth turns up a bit, “Bass.”

“Really? I got in because I play guitar.” Ray say’s, smiling.

“Guitar? What about you, Bob?”

Bob sighs, “Drums.”

Mikey nods, and looks altogether curious, before eyes drifting over to Frank, who seems to be in his own world, eyebrows furrowed. “What about him?”

“Guitar,” Ray starts, a few stray curls getting into his face, “Writing, Photography, and vocals.” he looks at his best friend, “He doesn't think he’s talented.”

“He can also draw ghosts.” Bob adds in, pointing at his note book littered with doodles.

“He can also draw ghosts."

Mikey and Ray start to get into a heated discussion about the benefits of Dungeons and Dragons when Bob slaps Frank's hand.

" What the fuck dude?" Frank cries, rubbing his pink knuckles.

Bob just glares, "I thought you said it was just makeup." He pulls Frank's shirt back and pokes at the two bite marks which are inflamed. "You've been itching them for the last fifteen minutes."

Mikey gets stiff, and Frank looks cool and collected(ly pissed) on the outside, but on the inside he's going fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckshitfuck. "Its actually a dog bite "

If the boys could see behind Mikey’s dark glasses, they would know it was not a dog bite. He knew Frank was lying, he could smell his hot sweat dripping down his neck, every pore screaming 'vampire bite!' . "It is. Frank told me he was afraid to tell you, dude."

Frank raises his eyebrows at Mikey, not expecting him to back his lie, but quickly goes blanked faced.

"Okay. But I'm still pissed at you, for lying that is." Bob says, narrowing his eyes. The bell rings then, a little late for Frank's liking, but also perfect timing.

"Bye guys!" He says, waving at his friends who are all exchanging weird looks, as he dashes inside and down the Mason League hallway, where he finally slows down.

The walls, Frank notes, are not like the others. This hallway was named after the school because its what its about- art. The walls are flaming with vibrant colors, collages of sketches and pastels drawn clowns, to calm brown linseed oil infused pottery. Music constantly floats throughout the corridor, at all hours, accompanying a range of dialects and click clack of paintbrushes.

It seemed like a home away from home, for Frank.

This was always his favorite part of the day, or had been, since he was accepted as a Freshman at the Mason League School of the Gifted. They told him "You son, have exceptional talent for a young man your age!" And plop- he was then an an official Mason Leaguer, Go Banshees!

The end of the school day, they told him, was for whatever he wanted to do. Photography, Writing, Art, Music. In the first two years he leaned towards guitar, and some Chorus, before drifting towards Literature, Writing, and Acting. Last year he had decided to use his Senior year to explore his artistic side.

And look where it had gotten him.

Frank jumped from foot to foot, nervously, before reaching out and grabbing the door handle. He walked in, avoiding eye contact and got into a seat in the back corner, pulling his green long sleeve further down his arms before crossing them. His eyes quickly scanned the room for his teacher- but he didn't see him. He saw many other people, mostly drama geeks, not really his crowd but he liked writing, and so if Theatre was what he could use it in, then he would take the opportunity.

The only person he really likes was Brendon, a bubbly guy who was totally out of the closet. Frank wasn't homophobic, he didn't mind the kid who liked to coat on strawberry lip gloss and wear tight shirts with low slung jeans that had bottle caps sewn into the waistband. Brendon was just the kind of guy everyone likes - if you don't mind a lot of talking and bubblegum being snapped every ten seconds.

"Hiya, Frankie!" Brendon said as he slipped into the seat next to Frank, letting his homemade patchwork bag hit the pink tiles. "Long time no see, babe."

Frank giggled, "Hi Brendon." Did I mention Brendon flirted with everybody? No? So anyways, while the other kids with hipster glasses and Beanies chatted away, Brendon and Frank were getting cuddly. Not romantically, it was just how their relationship was. "How has your Junior year been?"

"It's day two," Brendon remarked, trailing his fingertips along Franks arm, "I would say good, noting that hot new Freshie!" He rolled his eyes, puckering his pink lips. "Ryan Ross? Heard of him?"

Frank nodded, he had. Brendon started to ramble about how cute the new kid was, distracting Frank from Mr.Way entering the room. Today he had on a pair of tight black jeans, a thin red sweater, and some kind of layered Hogwarts style scarf. Oh, and a pair of black leather biker boots.

"Hello, Children," He said with a smirk, "This is my first theatre class so be behaved, or at least try. It is theatre." The class chuckled at this, and Frank finally looked up, noticing his teacher gazing at his class. He hadn't seen Frank quite yet.

"Now tell me, kids, what is theatre about?" Mr.Way said, pacing down the long stretch of room. Some girl with dark brown skin and blue eyes raised her hand. "Yes?"

She cleared her throat, "Theatre is about being somebody else." She said with a confident smile.

Mr.Way put his hands together, sighing. "Wrong! Theatre is about expression. Pair up, show me expression. Give me an emotion." The class stared at him, "Now!" He said, flapping his hand, golden eyes widening.

Brendon leaned over to Frank just then, tugging on his arm. They got out of there seats like the rest of the class, and started to discuss an emotion. Mr.Way casually strode around the class of 50 students or so, observing. Frank was nervous.

"Anger. I want to do anger." Brendon said smiling, but Frank made a huffing noise.

"Anger? How about-"

Brendon grabbed Frank's hand, making big brown glitter lined doe eyes at him. "Please?" He said giving a soft smile. Frank just rolled his own eyes and nodded, making Brendon squeal in delight. "Yay! Okay, so insult me."

"Say what now?"

"Insult me silly! Make me mad, make me feisty!"

Frank scratched at his neck, "um okay." He thought for a moment. "You're makeup is thicker than Chicago Deep Dish Pizza." Brendon gaped at him and crossed his petite arms around his chest.

"You're so short, you still have to measure yourself at the carnival to ride rides."

"That top is so out of date, even poor kids cry at the sight of you."

"Slut."

"Asshole."

"Whore!" Brendon choked out, trying not to laugh to hard, and pulled Frank into a hug. Frank had started to crack after the carnival insult, he was breathing in and out when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around quickly.

It was Mr.Way .

Apparently, Mr.Way didn't know it was Frank because his eyes flickered from warm golden to a dark hazel in seconds. He licked his red lips, and Frank could practically smell the anger coming off of him. Brendon didn't seem to notice, too busy tracing circles on Frank's shoulder, one arm linked around his waist.

"So , what's your emotion." Mr.Way said coldly, but Brendon just smiled.

"It was anger! But we got carried away."

Mr.Way's eyes flicked from Brendon's arm curled around Frank and back up to his eyes. "Very good." He said turning away, "Oh and Frank? See me after class." Frank just nodded, and miraculously, the bell rang.

Brendon unlinked himself from Frank, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Bye Frankie! Good luck!" He called and skipped out of the room. Frank waved and then waited until everyone else left the room before turning towards his teacher. Mr.Way was closing the door, and then flipped back towards Frank.

"Mr.Way, I-"

Mr.Way held up his hand, "Call me-"

"Gerard." Frank breathed. Be hoped he was right, and by the looks of his teacher, he was.

"How did you know that?" Gerard said, running a hand through his thick black hair "My name."

Frank twiddled his fingers " Um, it just came to me."

"Oh."

"Oh."

Frank stared back up at his teacher, eyes trained on each other. Somehow in sync they moved closer. "You just knew?" Frank nodded, feeling Gerard's hot breath go over his face. "You know...I can't stop thinking about you. Your taste. I can't- your smell. Frank I don't think-"

Frank leaned in right then, his small lips going over Gerard's softly, and then the older man growled, tugging Frank closer, crashing his lips hard into Frank's, pulling hard on the silver lip ring with his teeth.

"Can't do this" Gerard huffed between kisses, "If you don't mean it."

"I mean it."

Gerard pulled away, "What?"

"I want this. You're making me crazy." Frank said, and then grabbed a handful of Gerard's black hair, making his mouth crash back into Gerard's. Their teeth clanked, and Frank could feel the faint poke of fangs on his lips, touching his tongue. "Fangs, god that feels odd."

Gerard laughed and pulled away, eyes a stormy hazel. "What is between you and that Urie boy?"

"Nothing"

Suddenly, Frank was pinned against the wall, hands digging into his hips. "Don't lie, Frank." Gerard's hot mouth was hovering over Frank's pulse, making him squirm.

"I'm not!" He begged, "I swear I'm not!"

Gerard nodded, leaning in closer to the marked patch of skin. "I believe you. You want this Frankie? Want me to bite you?"

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease! Fuck- please!"

Gerard rested his lips against Frank's neck, trailing kisses up until he had his mouth hovering on the twin marks. He slowly began to swirl his tongue around them, his saliva sealing the two, not even leaving a scar. "Can I mark you Frankie?"

"Please."

Gerard ran his fingers up and down Frank's torso, his shirt pushed up from the hard kissing. Gerard rested his head against Frank's shoulder for a moment, looking down at the bare skin- or not so bare. He ran his thumbs over the marks. "What are these?"

Frank pressed closer, "They're swallows." Gerard nodded, looking back up at Frank to make sure he was still okay with being marked. His green eyes were wide, pupils huge. He smiled a bit. "I like it when your eyes do that." Frank said, observing Gerard.

"Do what?"

"The color thing. They go from gold to green, and then sometimes black and hazel." Frank said, "They just got really green when I said that."

Gerard raised his eyebrows, "My eyes change colors?"

"Well, yeah." Frank blushed " But only when you look at me."

Gerard leaned in and started to kiss Frank's jaw, smirking against the soft tan skin when he heard Frank purring. Purring. He finally got his lips rested onto the pulsing hot point on Frank's neck, considering or not of he was sure.

"Now. Now, please now."

Gerard sunk his fangs in, white hot pleasure flooding his body, thick red blood running over his tongue. The taste of Frank was like cinnamon toast and coffee, nicotine and clover. He tasted like spring water and it was the best, just, Frank. All Frank. He twisted his fangs, causing Frank to howl out a long string of curse words, his legs wrapping around Gerard's torso.

Gerard pulled his teeth out, making Frank whine and dig his long fingers ruthlessly through Gerard's hair, before plunging his fangs right back in again. Biting somebody, and having that somebody enjoy it, was like a reward. He'd never had any human or host enjoy a bite. Ever. Gerard scraped his bottom teeth over the soft skin, licking at the gouges his top fangs were still in.

Frank was arching off the wall, mewling, and - Was that a moan? Moaning. Gerard was humming against his neck, the vibrations pulsing through his teeth and straight into Frank's body. He wasn't even drinking blood from Frank anymore, just twisting and nibbling and marking. Letting other Vampires, and humans know that Frank was his to claim.

His.

He could feel Frank start to calm down a bit, exhaustion flooding Gerard's taste buds. He pulled his teeth out, both of them breathing deeply.

"That was, that was amazing." Frank said, his breath huffing against Gerard's collar bone.

"Definitely"

Gerard put Frank back down on the floor, his knees wobbling a bit. It wasn't uncommon, for he had just been claimed.

"I'm fucking tired." Frank slurred, and Gerard laughed.

"Of course you are. Let's get you home, Pansy." Frank nodded, letting Gerard pick him up bridal style. He couldn't help think what he would tell Mikey?

Not yet, no.


	4. Leeches.

“Dude, what the fuck are you wearing?”

“What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Bob coughed, “There isn't anything wrong, it’s just you look different,”he poked the inside of Frank’s hip. “It’s like, not what youve ever worn.”

“Mikey!” Frank cried, pulling at his sweater, “Is there anything wrong with my outfit? Do I look fat?”

Mikey’s head snapped up, peering at the small boy. “Uh, no?” Frank made a sad noise, covering his face with his hands. “I totally look fat.” Ray and Bob exchanged a look, before Bob threw a handful of chips at Frank.

“Well who you dressing up for then?” said Ray as he picked up one of the chips out of the grass, popping it into his mouth. Mikey looked curiously out of his hoodie, expression blocked by his dark glasses.

Frank’s eyes bugged out, “What?! Who- What?” he shot an anxious look towards Bob, “What did you tell him?” Bob held up his hands, clearly confused.

“Sorry Frankie, but I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Frank rubbed his eyes over with the back of his hands, “It’s just a sweater and some jeans.”

“A clean sweater. With clean jeans, and a fucking scarf.” Mikey pointed out, directing the tip of his metal canteen towards Frank.

“I don’t have to wear band t-shirts all the time.” Frank said harshly, shoving a pickle spear in his mouth. “It’s not like I don’t have free-reign over my clothing choices.”

“You do. But it’s not just that, because it’s something else. You like, did your hair.” Ray motioned towards Frank’s mess of blonde and brown hair. It was all put up into some mohawk thing, the old highlights yellowed the tips, blending oddly well together. “And stuff.”

“Well, I have to go to class.” Frank said, picking up his lunch bag and shoving his trash inside. Ray grabbed his ankle, still sitting on the grass.

“You going with us to the diner like usual?”

Frank blinked, and then cursed. “Shit, oh dude. I forgot that we go on Friday, um.” he cracked his knuckles, “I don’t know. I forgot to ask mom. She hasn’t...yeah.” Bob nodded slowly, “But Mikey should go.” they all stared at him, “With you, to the diner.”

“Oh! Um, I don’t know.” Mikey started, tucking his canteen into his hoodie pocket. “I guess?” Bob smiled, and Ray kind of nodded. He looked like he was going to say something, when the bell rang.

“Bye!” said Frank, as he shoved his trash into the garbage. He ran towards the door’s and went inside.

“What’s up with him, man?” Bob asked Ray as they slowly walked into the cafeteria, Ray shook his head.

“Don’t know man. Don’t know.”  
~

“Quiet down, quiet down!”

The kids all shuffled into their seats, arranging bags and pencils. All eyes were on Mr.Way now, especially one student’s, Frank.  
“Today, we will be doing whatever we want, because class ends a half hour early due to the game.” Gerard started, as he stacked some paper together. A kid in the back raised his hand. “Yeah, Tyler?”

“Whatever we want?”

Gerard smirked, “Whatever you want.”

“Heck yeah!” Tyler hooted, leaning over his neighbors desk to high five his friend. Frank was also very enthusiastic. He only had a mere forty-five minutes to do nothing with, and   
then he could hang out with Gerard.

The rest of the kids milled around the room to find their friends desks, while Frank drew lazily on his black binder. A tattoo he wanted when he turned eighteen. HALLOWEEN sprawled in silver ink along the binder, since like, eighth grade. One of the many he’d drawn on it since he started getting into the ink.

“What’s that?”

Frank looked up. He must have not noticed the small freshman slide into the seat next to him. “Um, just a rough sketch of a tattoo I want.” The kid nodded slowly, his hat falling forward a little. He pushed it up, making his hair scrunch underneath it.

“I’m Patrick.” he waved his finger’s a little bit. “I don’t want any, but my friend Pete has some.” he flicked his eyes over to a kid who was playing with a lighter next to the door. “He hasn’t finished any of them.”

Frank set down his pen, and leaned back in his chair. “I have a sleeve. And some on my chest and back. But, like, I can’t get any on my hands yet.” he looked longingly at his fingers, “School policy.”

“You have a sleeve?” Patrick reached down and pulled the purple fabric of Frank’s arm hem up, revealing a lot of ink. “How did I not notice that?”

Frank laughed, pulling the fabric down. “I only wear sweaters, or jackets all the time.” he noticed Gerard facing towards the whiteboard, ear pressed hard against his cellphone. “Anyways, I’m Frank.”

“I know.” Patrick said blushing, “We hear about you all the time in music in music class. You’re a prodigy.”

“What?” said Frank, shaking his head. “Dude, no. I am not a prodigy.”

“What! You play guitar, and sing. And like take photos and stuff. And write.” Patrick named off, counting them on his fingers. “You got asked to come here. On full scholarship. I had to pay, and so did most of the other kids.” Frank opened his mouth- “So shut up.”

Frank burst out in giggles, sounding like a total stoner. “Okay, whatever.” he looked up at the clock. “Oh, we only have five minutes left of class kid.”

“Don’t call me kid.” Patrick said, hiding back a smile. “Twerp.”

Frank smirked, “Get outta here.”

Patrick got up and walked back to his seat by the weird kid with the lighter. They traded small conversation, before glancing over at Frank, and then getting up and standing by the door. “Kids.” Frank thought, laughing at himself. Maybe he’d ask Patrick...and Pete? Yeah, Pete- to sit with them at lunch. They seemed like cool guys. Frank got out of his seat, and picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He casually clicked his heel on the floor, watching dust come off his boots.

The bell rang.

“Thank fucking god.” he said to himself, watching people litter out as fast as possible. When the last few people walked out, he waited a bit before going over and closing the door.

“Stressful day?”

Frank turned around. A pair of light green eyes met his. “Yeah, pretty much.” he felt Gerard wrap his arms around his waist. “Missed you though.” Gerard nuzzled his neck, hot breath tickling the skin there. He pulled away suddenly.

“How’s your bite since yesterday?”

Frank pulled down the fabric of his scarf, revealing a tattoo like formation of scars. “Okay, I feel like, when I’m away from you, I have a hangover.”

“A hangover? Like how?” Gerard asks, leaning in closer.

Frank fluttered his eyelashes, “I just...I couldn’t sleep after you dropped me off at home. And all day I could feel you, like, around. I knew where you were.” he frowned, “And I keep getting this itch under my skin. Like, it’s not an itch, but more like I’m waiting for something.”

“We should go somewhere and talk about this.” Gerard suggested, grabbing Frank’s hand. “Ill explain then.”

“The park?” Frank suggested, then gasped. “Oh can you even go in the sun? I mean like, does it hurt?”

Gerard laughed, walking over to his desk and grabbed his laptop bag. “Um, no. I can go outside, but It’s complicated. I'll explain. Meet you at the park?”  
Frank blinked.

“We don’t want to get caught. I’m three years older than you. And your teacher, Frankie.”

Frank nodded, “Okay, see you.” he left Gerard with a kiss on the cheek.  
~  
“Took you long enough.”

Frank looked down at Gerard, who was sitting criss-cross-applesauce underneath the jungle gym. “Yeah, well” he sat down in the mulch, leaning against the wooden structure, “I had to walk unlike you.”

Gerard looked startled, “You don’t have a car?”

“Dude, no. Bob drives me everywhere.”

‘Well, now I can drive you everywhere.” Gerard said, as he shuffled closer, pulling Frank to his chest. “We should talk about this stuff that’s going on.” Frank just nodded, before sighing.

“Okay, shoot.”

“So I can go in the sun, but it makes my senses fuzzy. That’s why we avoid it, or wear heavy clothes. It’s like a mental block, making our senses go from vampire, to human. It’s odd.” Gerard started, waving his hands around a bit. “I was also born a vampire.”

Frank pulled away, “How does that work? Oh my god, are you like a hundred years old?”

“No,” said Gerard, wiping some dust off his jeans. “I am twenty, and I stopped aging on my eighteenth birthday. We age to full maturity when we get there.”

“What about me?”

“What about you, Frank?”

“When you turn me, what will happen?”

Gerard coughed, “When I turn you? Well, if I turn you-”

“You’re fucking turning me, asshole.” Frank said haughtily, raising both eyebrows. “I’m yours forever.”

“When I turn you, we have to go to court.” Gerard said slowly, “And they will make you sit in a black room until night comes. But they might not like it.”

“Like what?”

“That you’re...a man.”

“Why?”

Gerard looked over his shoulder, through the legs of the jungle gym. “Because you can’t reproduce the way they want you to.” when he looked at Frank, he saw the boy was looking hard at him. “I don’t even know if we are mates, Frank. I just claimed you, but, you might not have the same mark as me.”

Frank scratched at his head, “What mark?”

Gerard turned his head, and pulled his hair back. Frank didn’t notice it at first, but then he saw the small white rounded cross, with rose vines twirling around it, just behind his ear. It blended in with his white skin, but was just a shade lighter to make the detail visible. “You see it?”

“You won’t believe me, Gerard.” Frank pulled down the back of his sweater, his shoulder blades tan against the purple fabric. “Look.” he twisted his arm around to point at the light tan cross over his right shoulder blade, only visible if you looked hard enough.

“How long have you had that?” Gerard said, running his fingertips over it.

“Since I was born. The hospital freaked out, and my mom kind of got all weird about it. None of my friends know.”

“Fuck, Frankie.” Gerard whispered, leaning in close. “You’re my mate.”

“Yeah, I fucking know.” Frank said before crashing his lips hard against Gerard’s


	5. Legends

Frank was like ninety-nine percent sure this is the most pissed off hes ever been.

When he shows up at school on Monday morning, hes fucking fuming. If it was possible, he would be shooting fire from his nostrils- all because of Bob Bryar.

“Why didn’t you pick me up, man?” Frank says as soon as he sees the blonde boy by his locker. “I had to fucking walk!”

Bob just turns around slowly, and avoids Frank’s eyes. “I um...I was busy.” he says cautiously, turning back and putting his coat inside the locker. Frank just scoffs.

“You picked up Mikey! Mikey, Bob.” he points to the skinny kid leaning on the water fountain with the glasses, “Mikey!”

“No, I did not.” Bob says calmly. “He got another ride. I said on Friday I couldn’t.” Bob squishes his eyebrows together; “Where you even listening?” Frank opens his mouth to answer when Bob says: “At dinner? The dinner you never showed up at.”

Oh shit, Frank thinks. He’d been talking with Gerard at the park until, like, Ten o’clock. He wanted to go to dinner, but… “My mom!” He blurts, cringing because seriously, his mom?

“Your mom?” Bob says sceptically, slamming his locker, slinging his green army bag over his shoulder. Frank nods.

“Um, sure. Yes? She uh, she was sick and I had to take care of her!” he lies. Fucking smooth Iero, now he’ll know for sure you’re lying. Mom doesn’t get sick.

Bob just brushes it off, abnormally, and that’s when Frank notices that he’s kind of twitchy. His hands are shaking around the strap of his bookbag, he keeps switching over his feet like he needs to sprint, just fucking go to town on the hallway, and get out of here. Frank could say maybe drugs- except Bob is a total no go on that. He wouldn’t even take one hit from Ray’s joint, like, on his own birthday, and you should atleast get a hit on your birthday. “Are you drunk?” he blurts out before he can stop himself.

Bob looks horrified, and Frank thinks, Oh shit he’s totally drunk, Bob-Fucking-Bryar has the shakes from alcohol! until he notices that Bob doesn’t smell drunk. “No man, what the hell?” he growls, literally growls, and makes, legitimately, half the crowded hallway of students look back at him with a mix of amused, and scared expressions. Frank’s actually fucking terrified beyond belief, because Bob, who is the calmest motherloving fuck hes ever met, just threw the fucking emotional wreck card right in his face. Bob apparently notices, and leans closer to Frank frowning. “Just leave it. I’m fine, go to class.”

And Frank fucking bolts, because Bob is now growling, and giving very demanding orders.  
~

Frank feels like he’s going to die, and it’s only twenty-minutes from lunch. He doesn't care if it’s his senior year, he doesn’t care if he’s fucking talented at a ton of shit and he’ll waste it by not getting a degree in school, because it’s Monday, and in second block on Monday, Frank has Literature, his least favorite class in the ever. Not only is the teacher a major douche bag, but this Eighth-Grader gone Freshman who totally loves him is in his class, and if she could just stop fucking blabbing for like I don’t know five bitching seconds, he could get his Senior speech done- but no. No, instead, he get’s to glare menacingly at her chubby face.

“So you do like the Misfits, riggghhht?” she says, twirling a piece of thick dyed hair between her forefinger and thumb. “Right, Frankie?”

Frank want’s to shove his fist so far into her face that the Moon has bits of brain on its surface. “Um, sure Jamia. Can you- I have to finish this, seriously.” he’s trying so hard not to ‘accidentally’ throw the pen he’s writing with at her stupid squishy nose. He cranes his neck to the side to look at the clock, and hears Jamia stumble over some words.

“Is that what I think it is?” she suddenly yanks down the collar of his grey sweater, revealing his fucking bite scars for God’s sake. Can she just keep her hands to herself already, gosh dammit. “I didn’t know, Oh my gosh!” Jamia looks up at a stunned Frank with big black eyes, and looks sincere. “If I would have known, oh geesh, she’ll smell me. Now I’m gonna fucking die.”

Frank pulls away, uber confused. “Who is she?”

Jamia scoffs, leaning into the side of her wooden desk, “Your mate, dumbass. Probably some pretty blonde with tits the size of Africa.”

“You mean Gerard?” he sputters, and then clamps a hand over his mouth. Jamia’s eyes widen into huge orbs, and she leans in towards Frank, barely a few inches away from him.

“You mean, like Mr.Way?”

Frank doesn’t answer, and that apparently answers her question because she’s giggling. “Oh.My.God.” Frank groans, smacking his head on his desk in frustration. Great. “Wait, are you a vampire?” he says suddenly. Jamia cackles, and nods.

“I knew you smelled too good to be true. I’m so gonna tease that little shit when I see him at the council-” the bell rings, and Jamia sweeps all of her stuff into her bag, “And tell him I said Hi!” she stomps out of the room, the colors of her shirt giving Frank a headache.

Frank is pretty sure Gerard won’t be very happy about this.

~

“What’s wrong, Frank?” Ray say’s as soon as his butt hits the grass. Frank gives him a look, and Ray nods, like, he totally doesn’t know, but he totally gets it. And then says “Wait, have you seen Bob? He’s been acting wier- Hey Bob!”

Frank turns around, and sees Bob shuffling over, and shit he looks fucking strung. His pupils are blown wide, barely letting any blue peek out of the iris, and he’s pale, for a blonde guy. “You okay, man?” Frank finds himself asking, and Bob sits on the ground criss-cross-applesauce before shaking his head and. No. That did not just happen.

Frank is pretty sure his best friend since Pre-K is crying.

“It hurts, oh God. My whole body has been aching all day.” Bob is running his hand through his hair, the blonde strands bright in the small sliver of sun peaking through the shade of the willow tree. He pinches at the copper pendant around his neck. “Do you have advil? Ray- Oh my, what the hell is that smell?” he looks over to see Mikey walking towards them, creepy canteen in hand.

Mikey nods at them before kneeling into the soft grass, adjusting his bony legs so they don't suddenly snap in half. For a skinny guy, hes pretty durable. Bob’s looking at him like he’s a piece of meat, and Mikey finally notices. “Um.” he says, and Bob gives and stares at his feet.

“So, why weren’t you at dinner?”

Frank looks up from the seitan sandwich he had been eating, and see’s that Ray actually looks kind of wounded. It’s the first time in four years he’s missed, no matter how sick. Geesh, he feels fucking terrible. “My mom was sick. She was puking.” which wasn’t entirely untrue, his mom was puking, but not because she was sick. “And stuff.” Ray just looks away.

It’s an awkward lunch, everybody kind of pissed off at Frank, and freaked out at Bob’s weird behavior. So Frank stares up at the blue widespread canvas of clouds, and thinks about how he somehow landed himself into some kind of kinky supernatural love life, squints at the Moon that’s clearly visible in the sky, full but dull in the Jersey morning blue. Second week in school and he already can feel the intensity of the colleges he should apply for, avoiding his mom as best as possible, and still trying to pay for food. It fucking sucks being Frank Iero, and nobody even knows it.

The bell rings, and he doesn't even notice until Ray holds his hand out to him with a small smile, and Frank feels better.

~

When Frank get’s to Dramatic Arts, Brendon is literally bouncing in his seat, motioning Frank over to his chair. When Frank sit’s down he notices that today Brendon is wearing checkered capris, and a shirt that has squares cut out the back, showing his angel like shoulder blades. Kid looks like a princess, and Frank totally loves him for it. “Hey, beauty.” he says to Brendon, who just smiles even wider, and squishes into Frank’s side.

“Frankie, why aren’t you a charmer.” he giggles, and brushes some of his floppy hair behind his pierced ear. “So, how was your weekend?”

“Okay, it was okay.” replies Frank, his honey eyes skimming the room as the rest of the kids file in. Gerard out of sight.

Brendon makes a pleased noise, and squeezes Frank’s hand. That’s when Gerard walks in, and Frank wants to cram him against the wall and shove his neck against his fangs- what the fucking ever. He wants Gerard to like, ravish him, like right now.

That’s pretty much how the whole class goes, Frank thinking about how he wants to lick at Gerard’s hipbones, and nip at his fucking ears. Frank doesn't even know when he got an ear fetish, but still. Brendon keeps teasing him, and poking him, and hugging him, and Gerard barely registers and Frank keeps thinking ‘Get jealous, Get jealous’. Which is really mean because Brendon has acted this way towards him since fifth grade, when they became science partners, and Frank said he likes Brendon’s pink chiffon wrap he had paired with black shiny shorts. It was friendship at first sight, and they hung out until Brendon started to get into this weird group of kids in their grade that liked gothic fashion and shit, which was fine with Frank, except it wasn’t him.

So Brendon finds these super awesome nerdy dudes named Spencer, Jon, and Dallon, who like started to Jam the fuck out, and so ba-dum-tsh it’s five years later and they all just happen to be accepted into Mason League- except Brendon. So anyways, they had stopped being friends until in one of Frank’s hospital spurts with pneumonia during the July leading up to his sophomore year, he sees this skinny little kid who he hadn’t seen in six years now, in a nightgown walking around the halls strumming loosely on a guitar. Frank, being the curious little fucker asks his favorite nurse ever who the pretty little boy is, batting his huge doe eyes, and Debbie was totally willing to spill.

“His name is Brendon, and he dresses like a girl.” she starts out, setting Frank’s pills on his tray, and motioning at the water so he’ll drink it. “And he was pulled out of Freshman year because they found out he had Bulimia. Really gifted kid, singing, and music talent.” she sighed, Frank ignoring her by now because he KNEW he knew that kid. Nobody else in the never could have as pretty legs as that unless you’re Mikey Way. So one day he whistles at Brendon walks by his door with a can of Sprite, and Brendon pokes his head in the room and goes all “holy shit!”.

“Hey Brenny!” Frank says enthusiastically, and Brendon stands in the doorway and plays with the hem of his blue cardigan. He looks nervous, his thin face even more pale than Frank could tell in the lighting of the hallway.

“What are you doing here?” Brendon asks, stepping into the room a little further.

Frank smiles, “Shitty immune system.”

“They talking at Mason-” Brendon says suddenly, “About me being excepted but never coming?”

Frank shakes his head, “Nah, man. You’re cool.” he pauses, “Are you gonna be a Sophomore next year?”

“No. I’m getting held back, but I’m still accepted.”

And that was the start of an odd friendship.

~

“Alright class is over, put your crap away.” Gerard says, laughing, “Get out.”

People run out, pretty much, but Frank hangs back as usual. When everyone is out, Gerard closes the door and walked towards Frank, cupping his face in his hands and giving him a kiss. “Hi.” Frank says, kissing deeper, and locks his arms around Gee’s waist.

“I have to go early today.” Gerard says, and pulls away. “Sorry, love.”

Frank nods, and then scrunches up his eyebrows. “Do um...do you need to maybe feed?” Gerard gives him an odd look, and nods, but doesn't make a move.

“I don’t want to wear you out too much, honey.” he says, brushing his thumb over Frank’s cheekbone. They’re silent for awhile, you can still hear the noise of kid’s leaving. “I can just use a blood bag.” Frank just cranes his neck anyways.

Gerard kisses the spot before he lets his fangs pierce the soft skin below the scorpion on Frank’s neck. It’s not as orgasmic feeling as usual, because it’s not a marking, but just to feed. It still makes Frank weak at the knees, grabbing at Gerard’s forearms which already rest around his torso, pulling him into his support. Gerard pulls his fangs out after a while, licking at the bites making Frank make breathy noises that should be totally pathetic but are actually very endearing to Gerard, hearing his mate happy from letting his dominant feed off of him. Frank pants for a few minutes, while Gerard rubs his hands over his back.

“I love you.” it pops out of Frank’s mouth before he can stop himself.

Gerard looks startled but looks into his Frank’s eyes and says, “I love you, also.” he smiles, “But I kinda have to go.” Frank nuzzles his face into Gerard’s shoulder happily before pulling away and grabbing his bag off the floor, and giving Gerard one last kiss.

~

Frank accidentally takes the wrong way home. He’s never walked home from school. So it’s dark out now, and Frank is pretty sure he’s not in Belleville anymore.

The streets are quiet, a car passing every now and then, lined with trees and thick forest. He thinks he recognizes a square of trees that lead to his park, so he goes inside the forest. It’s dark but smells like dirt and rain, so Frank’s cool. He doesn't get scared easily. He trips a few times over roots and some rocks he doesn't see and then suddenly he gets this really fucking creepy crawly feeling like he's being watched. Frank attempts to run for a few yards, and then starts walking when he gets to a clearing that’s illuminated by moonlight.

“Great.” he says when he hears the crunch of leaves behind him. “Fuckin awesome.” he’s so gonna die, damn he can feel this shit in his gut. So he flips around and doesn't expect to see a huge white wolf, like we’re talking as big as a truck, that’s sitting with its head cocked to the side watching Frank while wagging his blonde tipped tail. “Hi, puppy!” Frank says happily, because huge wolves are totally much cooler than murderers.

The dog walks closer and that’s about the time Frank loses his shit because he knows that face. The blue eyes are flicked with gold, but other than that, the body language, stiff wide shoulders, huge build, and then it conforms it when he sees the necklace tight around the wolf’s neck. Thick leather with a small copper pendant that’s celtic knotted.

The wolf is Bob.

Bob.


	6. Belated.

“Bob Bryar, what have you done?” Bob leaned against the counter hard, ignoring his mother. “I can’t believe you would be so irresponsible.” he could hear her walking out of the kitchen and into the living room where his father was reclining on the sofa. “You’ll never believe what your own son has done!”

“What?” his father murmured, the shuffle of the paper louder than his voice. He could tell his mom was whispering it, hushed and angry. His father gasped, “Get your fucking ass in here right now, before I come and find it myself!”

~

Frank curled up in the corner of his room, rocking back and forth. “Oh fuck.” he couldn’t believe this would happen to him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” he rubbed hard at his arms, blood pulsing furiously through his veins. He was hot, burning, flaming hot. He could feel fire licking at his lungs and he wanted somebody to help him, dear God help him. He pulled back the sleeve of his shirt and oh fuck. 

Red raised flesh from dirty yellow teeth marked his tan skin. Right over Our Lady of Sorrows. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but it radiated heat like an oven, white steaming heat. It almost itched so bad, and hurt so good.

He was going to fucking kill Bob at school tomorrow.

Frank got up and walked out of his room, grip still tight around his forearm. When he got down the hallway, into the kitchen he slung his leather jacket over his shoulders, and walked out the door.

I mean how far could Mikey’s house be from his?

~

Gerard turned the page of his comic book, slinking lower into the plush red couch. He kind of liked the perks of being a vampire meant furniture passed down from generations, and now it was his and Mikey’s. He could hear him sneaking around the bar of the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a pitcher of blood. Clink of glass on plastic. 

“You hungry?” Mikey asked, peering over the bar. The string of his sweatshirt had dried paint on it, and it made Gerard kirk a smile.

He shook his head, “No thanks.” regular blood just wasn't doing it for him these days. He was counting the hours until he had to turn Frank, and he was going to savor the taste of his fresh human blood while it lasted. He scanned his eyes over the page of Boy Wonder when he heard a knock on his door. Mikey looked over at him, before quickly shoving the cup and pitcher into the fridge. Gerard sunk lower into the couch, waiting. His brother made his way slowly to the door, opening it, and...it’s Frank?

“Frank?” Mikey says, stunned. Frank is shivering, but sweat drips off his brow, down his nose and past his pink lips. Gerard feels anger bubble in his chest, mixing with worry. What’s wrong with his Frank?

He gives a small wave, his sleeve falling down a bit. “Hey, um.” he shuffles his feet, looking down. “Can I come in?” Mikey hesitates, before nodding, and letting Frank inside. He looks around the house before noting Gerard staring at him wide eyed from the couch.

What the fuck?

Mikey’s hovering around him worriedly when he smells dog. Just fucking wet, stinking dog all over the place, on Frank’s clothes, and stuck to his inked skin. Disgusting, dirty, dog. It burns his lungs, makes him want to cough. Where the hell has Frank been? He smells like a wolf -

“I got bit…” Frank starts, stuttering slightly, “It hurts, s-so bad.” Gerard jumps out of his seat, running over to him, and wraps his hands around his forearms, making Frank hiss loudly. Mikey’s looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“Do you know each other?” said Mikey slowly, eyes scanning over the tender grip Gerard had around Frank.

“Drama student -” Frank blurts, breathing heavily. Gerard pulls him closer to his chest.

“I’ll take care of this Mikey. Don’t worry about it.” he says, before carrying Frank into the guest bedroom. Mikey still looks unconvinced.

~

“What have you gotten yourself into, Frankie?” Gerard scolded as he wiped the blood smears away from Frank’s arm, minding the tears in his skin. Frank sighs in reply. "Your so fucking lucky I marked you, or else you'd be a wolf right now,” the younger boy stares up at him, horrified.

“It was Bob,” Frank covers his eyes. Gerard stops tending to the wound and stares at the ground. “What did you say?”

“Bob is a wolf,” Frank shrugs, “- or something like that.”

“And Bob the wolf bit you.” It’s not a question, and Frank pulls away at the tone of Gerard’s voice. “What did you do to make him fucking bite you?!”

“I just -”

Gerard shushes him, taking his hands from Frank’s arm and rubs his eyes. He looks tired. He looks hungry, and exhausted. What is he doing? Mikey’s probably got his ear pressed against the door, and Frank looks terrified. “It’s okay. Your fine.” he assures him, running a hand through Frank’s short dyed hair. He doesn’t look nearly convinced.

“I touched his necklace,” he says, leaning further into Gerard’s hand. He contemplates this, and decides he’s still going to fucking kill him. Nobody touches his Frank. Mine, mine. “He was fine, until I touched his necklace. It’s like I burned him, like… it hurt him physically? I don’t know.”

Gerard get’s up and rummages around in the closet before coming out with a bunch of gauze and disinfectant. He wants to just bite Frank, get it over with, but that’s not his decision. “What did it look like, exactly?” he starts to dab the disinfectant on with a cotton ball, after he helps Frank sit up. He seems reluctant to answer, and remains quiet until Gerard opens the metal first aid kit, revealing a needle between his long fingers.

Frank goes white, “Your sewing me up? Christ.” 

“No,” Gerard strings the medical thread through the shank of the needle, minding the pad of his thumb the tip is poking into. “You’re going to, I’m terrified of needles.” He hands the object to Frank whose hands are shaking and smiles, assuringly. He carefully pokes the tip through the skin of the first tooth mark, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth thats curved into a grimace. 

When Frank’s done, he breaks the thread with his teeth and stares at Gerard. “Your fuckin’ weird,” then Gerard’s so close to his face that Frank can make out the few freckles he has over his ashen cheeks, the way his dark hair smells faintly like cinnamon. “Hi,” he breathes. Gerard doesn’t even reply, his lips hovering oh so slightly above Frank’s own plumper ones, before pressing a bruising kiss against them, the younger of the two groaning as sharp fangs pressed into his supple flesh of his lower lip. Blood pools over his tongue, sharp iron floods his tastebuds. Gerard has an arm wrapped tightly around Frank’s waist when they hear a large thump from outside the door.

The handle creaks, “What are you retards doing in there?” It’s Mikey. Gerard pulls away quickly, wiping away the blood from his mouth and motions for Frank to do the same. He goes the door and opens it, revealing his brother. Frank wasn’t worried until he sees Mikey’s nostrils are flared considerably. “Is that blood?” and that’s when it hits Frank that if Gerard’s a vampire, his brother has to be also. 

“Yes,” Gerard replies stiffly, sandwiching himself between Frank and the door. “I had to stitch up the dog bite.”

“Oh,” Mikey backs from the door, but Gerard leans in and whispers angrily into his ear. Frank sits back on the bed and is all ‘oh shittles’, no seriously that exactly what he thought. He’s seen Gerard get mad in the very short time he's known him, but it’s only at him. The way he’s looking at Mikey tells Frank that Gerard get’s very angry. “I’ll just be going.” Mikey finally replies, staring menacingly over his brother’s shoulder as he turns back to Frank. It’s like he knows that they’re together. Frank tries to give a crooked smile, but the door has already been slammed shut. 

“Frank,” Gerard is looking at him with a hint of suspicion in his tone. “Are you friends with Mikey?”

“I guess?” Franks inspects his wrist, “He kind of gives me the cold shoulder. Him and Bob -” Gerard is suddenly in front of him, nostrils flared. 

“Him and Bob, what?”

Frank stutters, intimidated by the facefull of angry vampire. “Seem pretty familiar? I think they know each other… fuck man why am I telling you this?” Gerard doesn’t answer, but is suddenly through the door of the room, and inside the kitchen.

“Mikey Fucking Way, you better explain this to me right now!”


	7. Discontinued

Basically, I am no longer in this fandom. I apologize, but maybe I will continue my work another time. The longer I spend surrounding myself in this music, these people, the writing, I kept finding myself get sadder, and sadder. 

Maybe one day I'll pick up their cd again and feel the chemical romance they once worked over me, but today is not that day.

My regards,  
Sage


End file.
